


On the Commercialization of Sentimentality

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avengers Tower, Awkward Dates, F/M, Friendship/Love, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: Loki's Valentine's Day blind-date is a disappointment. So is Jane Foster's.Luckily, they still have chocolate to keep them company for the evening... and each other.
Relationships: Jane Foster/Loki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	On the Commercialization of Sentimentality

Jane could forgive the guy for being late. People are late all the time. It’s no big deal.

She could forgive him for looking absolutely nothing like his photos. Seeing a person in real life is always different than seeing the pictures they put on social media and dating apps, right? She doesn’t want to seem petty. Besides, he’s not even a bad-looking guy. Darcy - who all but forced her into this Valentine’s Day date scenario in the first place - would tell her that everyone lies a little online. A filter here, an overenthusiastic smile there, holding a cute puppy that belongs to someone else, a clever joke stolen from a much-cleverer friend… it’s just part of the deal.

Jane can’t forgive how obnoxious he is about having to wait for another table to open up, especially since he’s the one who missed the reservation. The reservation  _ he _ made, at a restaurant that  _ he _ chose, that is apparently now ‘totally overhyped’ and has ‘terrible service’ because the poor host has given up and given their table to the next party in line.

She tells herself she’s just being a gatekeeper, but he can’t name one book he likes aside from  _ The Catcher in the Rye, _ despite claiming on his profile that he’s a ‘bibliophile.’ It’s not an entirely unforgivable crime, but it’s… disappointing. He doesn’t have to be a Rhodes scholar or anything, but she was banking on books as a safe topic of conversation. Instead, the guy’s getting heated about superhero film franchises, and she’s just  _ really _ not into that. Ridiculous superhero movies hit a little too close to home.

Jane forces a weak smile as her date questions her choice of a drink, but Jane wants a Coke, and  _ damn it, _ it’s what she  _ wants. _ She has no interest at all in splitting the fancy romance-themed punchbowl of sugar and liquor that he’s angling for; she’s already got a headache, and she doesn’t want to start her Monday with a hangover, too. “I think they have a smaller version of it,” she tells him, “if you really want to try it.”

He’s clearly disappointed. Jane can’t bring herself to care.

“So,” he says, “you do research, huh? That’s pretty cool. Who do you work for?”

_ Myself. The Avengers. SHIELD, _ she thinks, but she says, “Culver University. I take government contracts, sometimes.”

“I hear the academic life doesn’t pay well.”

She stirs her ice with her straw. Her mind is a million miles away, thinking about a glorious evening of Netflix and ice cream and checking her monitors for atmospheric anomalies. “I do okay,” she says.

“I’m an angel investor,” he tells her. “The risks are high, but so are the returns. The first startup we seeded went public last year. “

“That’s impressive,” Jane says, but when she asks him about some of the equity crowdfunding platforms she’s heard Tony mention, he gives vague responses and quickly moves on to discussion of his condo in Manhattan.

Their guacamole has onions in it. This is apparently a problem for Mr. Angel Investor, despite the fact that they  _ watched _ the guacamole being made tableside, and he chose to wait until the server was finished to mention it. Jane pulls the stone bowl closer to her side of the table.  _ More for me,  _ she thinks.

Jane tells herself that there’s no reason to be disappointed. Valentine’s Day is just a big Hallmark-holiday cash-grab, anyway. She doesn’t know what she expected. 

She makes it through dinner, and, at Darcy’s incessant text-encouragement, even attempts to flirt a little. She feels zero sparks with Mr. Angel Investor, though, and when he cuts the planned date short to invite her back to his condo for movies and drinks, she eagerly declines. He wheedles. Jane dodges a kiss and any promise of a second date and heads directly back for the Tower.

* * *

At first, Loki enjoys the ‘date.’

The woman that he’s been paired off with for this ridiculous Midgardian holiday is undeniably attractive - perhaps even more so than the photographs on his phone would’ve led him to believe. She is what Tony Stark, who forced him to participate in said ridiculous Midgardian holiday, describes as ‘New York Royalty.’ She is dressed in a stunning, shockingly-red jumpsuit that hugs every curve of her perfectly-sculpted body, and the pink chevron scarf around her neck matches the case holding her cellular phone, which she hasn’t put down for a single moment since they first met.

It isn’t the presence of the phone itself that he minds - they are entertaining little devices, and he’s seen how critical they are to modern Midgardian life. No, it’s the fact that she has been consistently messaging someone and trying to cajole him into taking photos with her that is beginning to vex him. Loki knows jealous manipulation when he sees it; he is ninety-nine percent certain that the recipient of her incessant messaging is the ex-fiancé who, in her own words, ‘screwed off to Majorca with his paralegal.’

She’s nearly in Loki’s lap by the end of the evening - phone still in hand - despite the posh restaurant that clearly isn’t meant to have people climbing into other people’s laps. Loki can’t bring himself to enjoy the attention; her lipstick is on his wine glass, and the ‘selfies' that he tolerates with Darcy Lewis are much less tolerable with a complete stranger, who is, at this point, practically holding him hostage. “Let’s go out dancing,” she purrs in his ear, and Loki carefully extricates himself from her grasp, finishes the last bite of his tiramisu, and calls it a night.

His date teases him about being ‘British and stuffy,’ and before she climbs in her car, she gives him the name of the club she’s heading to, telling him that he’s welcome to join her later, if he changes his mind. For the briefest moment, he considers it; he isn’t particularly eager to return to the Tower alone. 

All of the humans who usually help him to pass the dreary evenings that precede his sleepless nights made plans for the evening. He suspects that is why Stark convinced him to go on a date in the first place; none of the mortals wanted to feel guilty while they went off and had a grand time, leaving him to sulk and pace about like some sort of emotional vampire. 

Well, Loki is certainly going to show  _ them _ . When they arrive back at the Tower from their late-night holiday decadence, he’ll be reading a good book and enjoying a cup of tea, completely unbothered by his lack of company. He doesn’t  _ need _ company, and certainly not the company of mere mortals.

His own apartments in the Tower, however, seem a bit… empty for his liking, too quiet and lifeless. He leaves his coat neatly folded on the back of his sofa, snags a book from the shelf and one of his favorite mugs - he certainly isn’t going to use one of the communal mugs in the lounge kitchen, which is where he’s decided to spend his peaceful, not-at-all-disappointing evening.

The lounge kitchen, much to his consternation, is already occupied when he makes his way up to the level that the rest of the Avengers have deemed the ‘rest and recreation floor.’ Loki clutches his book and mug and scowls at Jane Foster, who, in a deliberate effort by the Norns to  _ add _ to his consternation, looks even more stunning than usual. She has an unlidded thermos of coffee steaming in her hands, and she wears scarlet pajamas that, while modest, do terrible things to his concentration. 

“Oh,” she says, “it’s just you. Weren’t you out? Tony said you had a hot date.”

“I could say the same to you,” Loki replies. He feels a bit ridiculous, still in his button-down shirt, so he sets his mug and book on the counter and rolls up his sleeves. It may not be pajamas, but at least it makes his overall aesthetic slightly more casual. “I was not impressed with the quality of the company. I only agreed to it so that Stark would leave me alone, in the first place.” He loosens and discards his tie on the counter and undoes his top two buttons before he realizes that Jane is staring at him.

Or, to be more precise, at the general vicinity of his chest.

“What?’ he asks.

“Nothing. Want some chocolate truffles?”

He does, in fact, want some chocolate truffles. “A gift from your suitor?” he asks as he inspects the proffered heart-shaped box. 

“Nope,” Jane replies. “A Galentine’s present from Darce, since she had to cancel our actual plans to hang out this weekend.”

“She did not send me any chocolates,” he says, piqued.

“Well, maybe that’s because you aren’t helping with her dissertation.” She places an entire chocolate truffle in her mouth, then washes it down with an impressive gulp of her coffee. Loki doesn’t know how she hasn’t scalded herself. “The two of you had plans?”

Loki scowls. “I lost a bet - I made the mistake of betting fairly, instead of ensuring that the odds were in my favor. As a result… I am being forced to play a game about mortals.”

Jane’s brow quirks. “About mortals?”

“Yes,” Loki says, brushing past her to make his tea, “mortals in combat.”

She laughs. “I think you mean  _ Mortal Kombat,”  _ she says, “with a ‘k,’”

“But, that isn’t how you spell—”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone play that since college, actually. Super over-the-top, excessively violent fighting game. It’s grotesque and ridiculous.”

“My two favorite things,” he says. That earns another laugh. He glances over his shoulder, and Jane is still leaning against the counter in those sinful scarlet pajamas, eating chocolates. “We could play.”

“Really? Why?”

“Why not? Unless that is decaffeinated, you will be awake until sunrise, anyway.”

Jane studies him for a moment, and it’s the kind of serious contemplation that makes Loki anxious. Sometimes, he feels like she sees directly through him. It makes working alongside her more exciting, certainly, but also more dangerous. Her smile returns. “Sure,” she says, “we might as well.” She balances the oversized box of chocolates on her arm and heads for one of the couches in the lounge, and Loki tries to avoid watching the sway of her hips as she walks away from him. “Fair warning, though, Loki,” she says, “I’m going to rip out your heart.”

_ Yes, _ he thinks, an odd flutter in his chest,  _ you just might.  _


End file.
